The Average Life of Roberta Sanders
by NaokoTheDragonKnight
Summary: These drabbles are all about the life of fourteen-year-old Roberta Sanders - a young alchemist-in-training, and traveller. See her high points, low points, her friends and family. Contains hints of OC x Paninya near the end. Sorry for the crap and cliché summary


_**The Life of Roberta Sanders**_

**1. Names**

"You…want to take her name, Mr. Matthews?" the man sitting behind the desk asked.

"Yes. Is there a problem?" Philip replied, the pen poised.

"I'm supposed to take your name," Amelia told her new husband. "It's tradition."

"Well, sorry, dear, but I don't care," Philip replied with a smile bearing a touch of smugness, before placing the pen on the paper. "It's sexist to expect a woman to throw away her identity and become an accessory to her spouse. And don't say I'm doing the very same. I'm being different." He finished writing and handed the stationary to Amelia. "Go on, sweetheart."

The woman stood silently for a few moments before taking the object and writing 'Amelia Sanders' in the 'wife' box. She left the maiden name box blank, of course.

"Congratulations," the man said as he placed the paper in an envelope for protection. "You are now legality and fully married."

When she heard this, Amelia's worried expression lit up. "Oh forget it! I don't care about the names, all I care is that I'm married to the man I love!" She flushed at all. "I can't believe I just said someone so soppy."

Philip sniggered before taking her hand.

Their street lay in a secluded, quiet part of Central. As they came to it, they saw what seemed to be single person who lived there waiting. As they rounded the corner holding hands, the small crowd erupted into applause and cheers.

"Let's welcome the new Mr. and Mrs. Matthews!" one of their friends bellowed.

"No, no," Amelia said, waving her free hand. "It's actually Mrs. and Mr. Sanders."

The crowd stopped clapping and cheering and a few muttered among themselves. The friend that had spoken stepped forward.

"What do you mean, 'Mrs. and Mr. Sanders'?" she queried. "Didn't you take Philip's name, Amelia?"

"No. He took mine."

There were more mutters.

"But it's tradition for the woman to-"

"I want to be different!" Philip almost-shouted, cutting across the man. "As I said to Amelia, 'it's sexist to expect a woman to throw away her identity and become an accessory to her spouse.'"

"But aren't you-"

"No!"

Once more, the crowd muttered.

"Well, I guess if that's what they really want…"

"Yeah, it is their marriage after all…"

"I agree."

The crowd returned to cheering and clapping. The Sanders couple smiled at each other and proceeded to their home to pack for their honeymoon. They just caught another of their friends say, "This is going to take some getting used to…"

* * *

><p><strong>2. Roberta<strong>

"Philip, you can come back in now. I swear, we're not joking this time."

The man slowly re-entered the master bedroom of his and his wife's home, eyes sharp. He had a fear of childbirth, and the combination of seeing the baby's head and hearing Amelia's screams had caused him to faint, but he recovered quickly after his being removed from the room. He decided to wait, and had paced up and down, having to cover his ears each time Amelia screamed to prevent himself.

"Oh, Philip, just look at her. Our child, Roberta."

Philip stared at his first child, held in his wife's arms. "She's beautiful."

As soon as it had been confirmed that the Amelia was pregnant, Philip had begun thinking of names. The child would have been 'William' if male.

Amelia gently handed the blanket-wrapped newborn, to the blonde. She had stopped crying only a few minutes ago before her father had re-entered. As he looked down at the child, Philip remarked, "Heh, she has your eyes and that big nose." The woman scowled. "Hehehehe, revenge complete. I think your nose is cute." He suddenly burst into to tears. "I'm so happy to be a dad!"

"Shouldn't you be doing that?" the doctor muttered to Amelia from his position next to the bed.

"He's the emotional one of this relationship," the woman replied, seeing that now both Philip and Roberta were crying. "I like it." She now began to find the scene a little amusing – a baby and her father crying together.

"I'll be fine in a moment," the man said in a slightly high voice in-between sobs, which was just loud enough to be heard over Roberta's cries and screams.

He did not see Amelia shed her own tears of joy.

* * *

><p><strong>3. Death<strong>

Amelia had finally awoken. She occupied the bed at the end of the ward, Roberta in the one facing her. She was still unconscious, having suffered a head injury as well as cuts and bruises. The doctors had been frank when she had asked her first question groggily. He was dead. He had died from being crushed in the impact of the two cars colliding.

She had protected Roberta before losing consciousness, but it was not enough. But she had to be strong, for her. He was the emotional one. _He_ was the emotional one.

However, how would she explain when her Roberta asked the questions, "Where's Daddy?" or "Why are we in a hospital?".

"Did he suffer?" Amelia croaked to the doctor who was closest after coming out of her thoughts. She had forgotten about the pain of her broken bones due to the devastating news.

"Only for a few moments," she told her. "I won't go into details, and upset you further."

"Will I…be able to attend the funeral?"

"Yes, but I'm afraid you'll be have to be in a wheelchair."

"I don't mind…What about Roberta?"

"She…she is in a coma."

"A coma? Oh, god…"

A week later, the funeral took place. Amelia was even weaker than before. She contained her tears until it was over but when she was back the transport vehicle, she could hold back no longer, and buried her face in the blanket. She still did not let herself to break down.

Roberta had finally woken up the day before though was still rather tired and weak due to the head injury. She had a skull facture. By the time they had returned, she was looking around, her eyes big.

"What's wrong, Mummy?" she asked from across the room.

"Mummy's just sad, darling. She saw something sad when she went out for her walk, that's all," the woman responded.

"Mummy…where's Daddy?"

Amelia's eyes widened. This soon? "Well…Daddy's…Daddy's…" she did not know how to say it. "Daddy's gone, darling."

"Gone? Gone where?"

"He's gone to a place where we can't reach him. 'The Other Side'. Everyone goes there at some point, but we can't go until it's our time, and I hope that time doesn't come for a long time."

"But won't he be lonely?"

"No. He'll have other people to keep him company."

"Well, I'll miss him…"

"Me too, Roberta, me too…"

A week and a half later, Amelia was joining him.

"Please…let me say goodbye to Roberta," Amelia begged. "While I'm still awake to see her."

Roberta was brought to her without a word of resistance, being placed on the bed next to her.

"Darling, I have something to tell you," Amelia told her after kissing her.

"What is it, Mummy?" the girl asked, her face full of curiously.

Amelia looked directly into those green eyes. "You know that place I told you about? The one Daddy is in?"

"Yes?"

"Well, I'm going to join him."

The girl's expression became worried. "But, Mummy, you said you hoped your time wouldn't be for a while."

"Well, I didn't know that for certain. My time has come. However, I won't be completely gone, and neither will Daddy. I'll just be joining Daddy, and we will both watch over you." She kissed her again and for what seemed a long time, she held her daughter, but when she began to have trouble breathing, Roberta had to be taken away.

"Mummy!" she cried, thrashing wildly and thumping her fists on the nurse's back as she was taken from the room. "Don't go, Mummy! I don't want to be alone! Don't…" the girl suddenly went limp. The man stopped moved her into her arms.

"Ma'am! Ma'am!" he cried.

One of three doctor's attending Amelia rushed over.

"Her injury is worse," he said after examining her. "She caused it though the thrashing."

Amelia never learnt this.

A month later, Roberta had luckily recovered, but had little memory of the accident or the after events due to the injury, which could have been both a blessing and a curse…

* * *

><p><strong>4. Etiquette<strong>

Five-year-old Roberta was reading once again. Sitting in an armchair next to the (thankfully unlit) fireplace of the orphanage common room, she was engrossed in a masterpiece of a book: "Hedgehogs: The Real Garden Pesticide". When she had finished it, she made her way back to the library to return it. As she left the room - something on a top shelf caught her eye: a book rather thicker than its companions.

"Hm…" the girl said, rubbing her chin.

She grabbed one of the moveable ladders, and clambered up it to reach the piece of literature. She sat back down on the chair and looked at the title: "Mind your manners! A Guide to Being a Proper Lady or Gentleman".

"That's rude," Roberta said with a pout. She opened the book, and looked at the first page, where there was an explanation of the title and content of the book. The book explained that its subject matter was something called 'etiquette' and that its first rule was that contractions were never to be used, in speech or writing, and to keep this in mind while reading. The first chapter was 'Words One Can and Cannot Use', the second being 'How to Say It', then it was 'Manners and Mannerisms' and finally, 'Behaviour'. All of these individual subjects had at least a quarter of the book devoted to them.

After looking up the definition of 'etiquette', the girl thought, "That's might help me make more friends. First off, like it says here, I'll stop using contractions," her eyes widened slightly. "Oh no! I just used one! This is going to be hard."

It took her almost three months to achieve this goal, where it become natural, and move onto the next stage of the subject.

* * *

><p><strong>5. Alchemy<strong>

After reading a book on it the previous year, Roberta had become interested in it. Finally, she had brought herself to ask for lessons, even if she still did think Mrs. Bailey would reject her.

"I wish to learn alchemy," Roberta said.

There was a moment of silence.

"Really, now," Ms. Bailey replied. "Well, you should understand that it's a hard subject."

"That's good."

"And if you are good, the Military might ask to you to help."

"I'll refuse."

The woman rolled her eyes. "Well, you can only do on one condition."

"What is that?"

"You cannot tell anyone. I don't want anyone blabbing."

"Well, that is fine. It is so army does not know, yes?"

"Yes. And because you may be treated differently."

"I understand."

"Good. I'll arrange for a teacher."

A few days later, Roberta was back in the orphanage owner's office, nervous and clutching a bag. Soon, Ms. Bailey re-entered the room, a brown-black-haired woman behind her. Roberta's eyes widened.

"It is you!" she cried, standing up.

A pair of hazel eyes also widened. "And it is you!"

"You know each other? Oh, how nice!" Ms. Bailey commented.

"Yes." Mary turned to face the older woman. "We met when young Roberta here wondered off on a trip two years ago. To think, a four-year-old being so calm about being lost. Most just stand and cry for their mothers." The woman paused. "Speaking of which, I had no idea she was an orphan…not that I mind, of course." She smiled sheepishly.

"Well, now that you two have gotten re-acquainted, let's move along." Ms. Bailey said, before turning to the blonde. "Roberta, you'll be attending your lessons at Miss Thompson's home in the countryside."

"It's a nice place," Mary told the girl in response to her changed expression. "My family and I moved there after Father's retirement in 1913. You'll like them, I swear." She turned to the other woman in the room. "We'll be going now. Thank you."

* * *

><p><strong>6. Orphans<strong>

"So, how _did_ you become an orphan?"

The seven-year-old girl looked up at the sudden question. Robert smiled that sunshine smile. "Come on, we've been friends for like, a year, so we can share things like this."

"It is rather simple, really," Roberta eventually said. "According to Mrs. Bailey, Mother, Father and I were involved in a car accident when I was only two-years-old. Being so young at the time, I had no idea what had happened. Father was confirmed as what is known as 'pronounced dead at the scene', which at that time, I had no clue of its meaning – Ms. Bailey explained."

"Oh my…" Robert quietly said, shifting.

"What it means is that Father suffered such grave injuries that his life ended before he could be taken to hospital. Mother and I were injured too, with her having broken bones and I having cuts, bruises and a head injury. Mrs. Bailey told me Mother lasted two weeks before she passed. She told me that she kissed me goodbye." While the girl spoke, she maintained a solemn, sombre voice. Robert had now wrapped his arms around his legs.

"I was brought here a month later, and missed her funeral. To make matters worse, I suffered amnesia due to my injury and remembered little of what happened. I was informed of what had happened to my parents after our 'facts of life' lesson a few weeks ago."

"So _that's_ why you were so upset," Robert sadly realised. "I'm really sorry if I was insensitive that day."

"No, no, it is quite alright," the girl replied.

Do you think the reason they taught us about death that day was because they were planning on telling you that?"

"I hope not. I am doing my best to move on. Yes, I will forever miss them, but death cannot be rectified. Now, to make this fair, what of you?"

"Huh?"

"How did you become parentless?"

"Oh…" the boy looked at the floor, and pulled his knees closer to his chest. "It's a bit complicated."

"I will try my best to understand."

"Ok then. Mrs. Bailey explained to me my situation too. She does it for everyone, I think," the boy stated before continuing. "First of all, I'm not a 'complete' orphan, if you get what I mean."

The blonde's expression changed slightly. "What _do_ you mean?"

"Well, when my mum was pregnant with me, my dad contradicted the flu. He had a weak immune system, meaning a simple sniffle could hurt him a lot, and…he died of it shortly after I was born. He was happy though, as he got to hold me."

"Well then, why are you here? Why are you not with your mother?"

"That's the complicated bit." the boy's voice became just as sombre as that of his friend as she recalled. "My mother tried to look after me on my own. But, she couldn't do her job and look after me. It had to be one or the other. She tried choosing me, but without work, our money ran low."

Roberta did not want her prediction to be correct.

"My mother, eventually, so low on money, made a selfish decision." Robert's voice rose sharply as he made his next statement. "She dumped me here! How could she do that? That…that _bitch!_" Robert had stood, fists clenched at his sides.

"I do not think hate is good," the girl replied.

"Well I hate her!"

"However, for a mother to abandon her own child…that is something I cannot comprehend. It is disgusting! Please, though, do not hate her. I am sure she does not hate you, and misses you."

Robert took a few deep, steadying breathes before he hissed. "…If she missed me, she'd come and pick me up or at least visit every now and then."

"Well, I suppose you have a point. However, to me, my point remains.

"Let's stop now, eh?" the boy suggested, his voice lowering to normal. Roberta was surprised at this civility. "I know some might say that is not is a good choice…but I respect it."

"Yay."

* * *

><p><strong>7. Human Transmutation<strong>

Mary looked at her young apprentice, who was rubbing her eyes. Slowly and carefully, as if it were a jigsaw, they had put the pieces together over the several weeks.

It was not only alchemy Roberta studied in Mary's humble home office. Mary had also decided to tutor in other subjects she felt to be important: Biology, as it would help with alchemy, and History.

"How is it now?" Mary asked the girl as she removed her glasses to clean them on her sleeve.

"My head is throbbing and my eyes hurt, but I do think I understand it," Roberta replied as she replaced her glasses on her face. "However, there is one thing I will never understand, no matter how much I learn."

"What's that then?"

"Why someone would attempt it."

"I don't understand now."

The girl turned to her. "Well, for me, the risks are too great. You could lose a limb, an organ, a sense, or more than one of either. In addition, surely everyone, alchemists in particular, should know that death cannot be reversed, no matter what you try. I would not even think of trying to bring back Mother or Father, as I have accepted their passing. It would be cruel as well. I feel that is what everyone must do, even if it is hard. Besides…" she smiled. "You will eventually find someone to fill the role of the deceased."

Mary pulled back a little. _Me? I know she liked me but…could it be me who's helped get over her parents' deaths? I feel so honoured. I wondered how a seven-year-old could speak so maturely about death…_

"Sensei? Are you alright?" the girl asked, her expression how concerned. "You seem to be many miles away from here."

"Oh!" the woman jumped. "Sorry. I was just thinking."

"About what were you thinking?"

"Oh…um…nothing important. Just about what I'll teach you in our next lesson."

"I see…" The next time she looked away, she shook her head.

* * *

><p><strong>8. Smoking<strong>

Craig inhaled deeply.

"Aaaah, that's good," the fifteen-year-old said as he breathed the smoke out again. After a few more puffs that were normal, he began trying to make smoke rings.

Twenty minutes and three cigarettes of bliss later - Craig spun his head around at the sound of feet walking across the grass toward the tree behind which he was hiding. "Oh no…"

Roberta was coming towards him.

"Craig! It is time to dine," Roberta said as she came to a halt and adjusted her circular-framed glasses. "We must return inside or Ms. Watts will be— what is that horrid smell? It is making me want to gag."

"It's nothing, that's what," the boy replied simply, and continued in full view of the girl."

"You…you are smoking! That is prohibited!" Roberta cried.

"Well, you're not going to tell anyone, are you, Specs?" Craig asked his young friend. "If you do, you're out of my gang."

"That…that is blackmail!"

"No it's not. It's a deal. So, do we have a deal?"

The girl took a moment to think. "…We have a reluctant deal."

"Good." Suddenly, the boy thrust the packet under the girl's nose. "You want one?"

"_No!_" Roberta cried.

* * *

><p><strong>9. Stealing<strong>

"Ok, here's the plan," Craig told them.

He, Roberta and Robert were hidden in the shadows of an alleyway, having slipped away from the other children, Ms. Watts and Mr. Burrow only a few minutes before. He turned to Robert. "Tyke, your role is to go out there and try and get some attention, you know, pretend you're sick or lost or something." He turned to Roberta. "Specs, your job is to riffle though the pockets of the person or people who stop to look at Tyke. Take anything you find, and be discrete."

"Aw, why can't I do the stealing?" Robert asked.

"Because I said so," the older boy replied.

"But people trust girls more. Someone will be more likely to stop if Roberta does the distracting."

"Tough. I already made my choice. I am not some 'woman are just the distraction' kind of leader."

Robert folded his arms and pouted. "I better get to steal next time."

"And now you won't."

"Aw, come on!"

"What is your role in this, Craig?" Roberta asked, slightly loud.

"I'll be watching from here, keeping an eye on things. If you screw up, I'll come and sort it out," the teenager replied.

The two children exchanged a nervous glance.

After taking a few minutes to calm down and think, Robert walked out onto the street. Roberta watched nervously as he did so. Once out in the open, the boy began to cough and sway from left to right.

"Help me!" he cried in what he hoped was a sickly, weak voice. Someone help me… "

Eventually, after staggering his way to the very centre of the street, he fell to the hard ground. Roberta winced.

"Faking a faint, eh? Overused, but effective, since he's a kid," Craig commented. "Nothing tugs at some gullible idiot's heartstrings like a sick kid."

"_So says the person who, along a month ago, came in when he thought a feverish yours truly was asleep, to beg that I get better…_

After a few more minutes, two women paused.

"Anne, I think this boy's not well," one woman said as she crouched next to the child and placed a hand on his side as she looked at him. "He's unconscious."

"Come on. He could be faking it, you know what some children are like," Anne said, placing a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Besides, if he is sick, I'm sure someone will help him."

"Why can't that someone be us?"

"Look, if we're late, I'm blaming you. We don't want to keep Mr. Has-A-Heart-Attack-If-You're-A-Second-Late waiting."

The redhead took one last look at Robert before she rose to her feet and followed her friend.

"Gotta admit, that woman's smart," Craig said. "But if that other one was on her own, we could've had our mark."

"Mark?" Roberta repeated, confused.

"Yeah. That's what you tell a target in things like this."

"Oh, I see."

A while later, a man came along. Like the women before him, he paused. A few moments passed before he gave Robert a small nudge with his foot. When he did not respond, he crouched down next to him.

"I think…" Craig began, pausing to make sure. "This is your chance, Specs."

"I shall wait a moment longer," the girl replied. "To be safe."

"No! Go now! Look, he can't see us." He gave his friend a small push. "Remember, act causal and find a good place to hide what you get."

Roberta walked onto the street, her heart beating a little fast. As she drew level with the man, with her eyes fixed on a point ahead of him, she reached out and slowly and gently slipped her hand into the man's left back pocket. Her fingers touched leather. She allowed them to curl around the object, and slowly, carefully, she drew the object out. Without looking at it, she dropped it into a small pocket she had had Mr. Burrow sew on the inside (on the pretence that it would allow her to store her possessions in a place from where they would not be stolen) of her jumper.

Suddenly as she was about to walk away - the man turned around. The girl tensed.

"Oh," the man said. "And who might you be?"

Roberta looked from Robert to the man and back again, while hoping the stolen object was well hidden.

"Sorry, did I frighten you?" the man asked.

"Um…yes…" the girl replied. T-That boy is my twin brother. My older brother and I have been searching for him. He is ill. I cannot believe he would be so stupid as to try and out to play when he is so sick!" She threw herself down next to the boy. "Robert, you fool!" She could scarcely believe herself.

"What?" Craig hissed from his position in the alleyway. "What's she trying?"

"Oh," the man said again. "Where is your older brother?"

"That is a good quest— oh, there he is!"

Roberta got up, ran over to Craig and grabbed him by one of his wrists.

"_What_ are you doing?" the older boy hissed.

"Please, just act along with me," Roberta asked him. "If you do, we should be able to escape with Robert and the object I have pilfered."

Craig sighed. _This won't work, I'm sure of it. But… _he allowed Roberta to yank him over to the man.

"Onii-chan," the bespectacled girl cried. "I found Robert!"

"Oh, Robert!" Craig cried, getting the crack just right. He lifted the boy into his arms. Robert tried to remain limb, though he only needed to do it for half his body.

"Don't worry, sir," the older boy said in a voice of politeness. "We'll take our brother to the hospital. You get on with your day. I'm sure you've got lots to do."

"Well, I don't have that much to do," the man replied. "But if you're sure you'll be alright…"

"Yes, we will." The teenager bowed as much as he could.

"Well, good day to you, and I hope your brother gets well soon."

Much to the trio's relief, he waved as he left. They moved back into the shadows of the alleyway.

"Finally!" Robert cried as Craig set him down on the ground. "I never thought pretending to be unconscious would be so hard."

"You are quite the actor," Roberta said.

"Thanks," the boy said proudly, puffing out his chest.

"I mean no offence, Robert, but I was speaking to Craig. However," The boy's chest deflated, while a sly smile slipped onto her face as she looked at her older companion. "I suppose that acting in such a way would come easy to you."

"I-It took me years to some things right," Craig said, wringing his hands. "I'll admit I didn't really want it to go that way, but a successful steal is a successful steal. What did you get?"

The blonde girl reached into her top and pulled out the object.

"Nice!" Craig declared, taking the object from her and turning it over. "Tanned leather…smooth."

"We will be returning it once we are finished, will we not?" Roberta asked, fidgeting her fingers.

The boy laughed. "You serious? Of course we're not! We'd never find him, and even if we could, as if we're just going to walk right up to him, hand it back and say 'we're finished using your wallet, sir. What you saw was just an act'." He laughed again.

"Oh…" Roberta felt like she was sinking.

After Craig had hidden the wallet in his inside jacket pocket, the three snuck back to the other children. The whole why, Roberta walked behind the boys her head hung in shame.

_I suppose I shall have to adjust,_ she thought to herself. _I know it is wrong, but it was so…exciting! No! I shouldn't like this! I'll increase the bad reputation of alchemists!_ _I most certainly will not be telling Sensei of this… _

* * *

><p><strong>10. Tattoo<strong>

"Roberta, come here," Mary beckoned with one arm. The girl looked around before rising from next to the Transmutation Circle. "Hold out your hand."

The recently-turned-eight-year-old stared suspiciously at the fountain pen in the woman's hand and the small pot of black ink that was on the table.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Mary said kindly. "As a matter of fact, I want to give you something."

Roberta slowly held out her open palm. Mary clicked the pen into action and placed it onto the girl's hand.

"W-what are you going to do, Sensei?" the girl asked nervously. It tickled a little.

"Just watch."

"B-but, if you are going to draw on my hand, I will contract blood poisoning."

"No, you won't. This ink is specially adapted to be used on the skin, trust me."

Mary continued to draw until she had constructed a Transmutation Circle on the girl's palm. "There. That's a multipurpose Transmutation Circle. It will stop you from having to draw them all the time. You'll only need to do it every now and then for certain transmutations. I don't mind drawing myself, but I see a flash of annoyance, my little madam." She gave a small titter.

"Oh, well, thank you, Sensei," the girl said sheepishly as she looked at the circle. "However, will it not wash away when I wash my hands?"

"Again, you're wrong. It is also water-resistant. You'll still be able to clean your hands fully and it'll stay."

"Impressive. I cannot wait to try it out."

* * *

><p><strong>11. Tobogganing <strong>

"Let's do it again!" Martin called to the others as he raced ahead of them.

The orphanage children run up the country hill for another trip down it, using their toboggans. They were six girls and four boys of varying ages (the youngest being a girl of four and the oldest being Craig).

Roberta was surprised that Ms. Bailey had allowed Ms. Watts and Mr. Burrow to take them all the way out to countryside to play in the winter snow.

They had all been told to wrap up warn coats or jackets, scarves, hats and gloves or mittens. All of them had done so - all except Craig. He was not even wearing a pair of gloves, but at least he was wearing a sensible jacket. He was leaning against a tree looking bored. When Roberta inquired as to why he was not taking part, he denounced it as 'Kid's stuff'. But she saw the shivers and longing.

He was not along, at least. Eight-year-old Ange, with her Cerebral Palsy in her lower body, sat looking miserable. She needed help with going to the bathroom, bed or (for obvious reasons) traveling up and down the stairs. Mrs. Bailey had feared for her safety, and had told a very reluctant Watts and Burrow to make sure.

"Please, please, pleeease!" she continued to beg, tugging at the coat of the male staff member while looking at both of them. "Just one! I won't get hurt, I promise!"

"No, no, no," Ms. Watts told her. "Believe me, I think you should, but we need do as we're told by our boss."

"Besides, how would you use the toboggans?" Mr Burrow added.

Ange gave up and stared down at the snow before her immobile feet. _Stupid dad and his brokenness._

As she made her way up the hill for a fourth time (while three of the children had begun a snowball fight) Robert glanced back to Ange, and seeing her close-to-tears expression, he called out to the others. She was his closest friend after Roberta.

"Roberta, Martin, Sarah, com'ere!" he called. "Please."

The three children gathered around in a tight circle. Sarah was nine and Martin was eleven, and until the arrival of Craig, thought himself 'King of the Orphans' as he was the oldest boy, but not the oldest child. It was fair to say that Craig intimidated him.

"I have a plan to enable Ange to ride with us," Robert told them. "First. Give me two sledges." Martin and Sarah gave theirs. "Now I need two scarves." Roberta and Martin gave theirs. "Now, let us go to Ange." The girl looked up happily as they approached. "Ange, will you come with us?"

"Sure," the girl said sadly and followed them. She always felt a swell of proud when she seized the bars of the wheels. Once the five had reached a spot out of earshot of everyone else, Robert again turned to them all.

"Ange, I have a way in which you can join in with the sledging and fun." He turned to the other three and whispered something. The three gathered around and set to work. Using one of the scarves they secured one of the sled's underneath one of the one wheel, making sure the wheel did not move. They then did the same with the other sled and scarf.

"Ooooh, I see," Ange said with a nod.

"Do you like it?" Sarah asked.

"Yeah! Let's see if it works."

The four friends pushed the wheelchair up the hill out of sight of the staff members, once they had reached the top - Roberta suddenly cried out.

"Ms. Watts! Mr. Burrow!" she called.

"What are you doing?" Sarah growled.

Watts and Burrow moved over to the bottom of the hill.

"What are you four doing?" cried Ms. Watts.

"Bring Ange back down here immediately!" Burrow shrieked. "She could get hurt!"

"No!" Roberta shouted back. "She will not be harmed, we will proof that!"

"Did not disobey us! You'll be punished!"

"Push me," Ange commanded. The rest of the orphanage's residents were also watching.

The four complied and as one, pulled the girl down the slope. Watts and Burrow cried out and the children cheered. The wheelchair-using girl raised her arm into the air and yelled "Wheeee!" as she hurtled down the hill.

"You go, Wheels!" Craig called. It seemed he had a nickname for everyone.

When she reached the bottom, she slid on a little further, but the snow built up in front of her and stopped the chair

"Are you alright, Ange?" Watts cried as she and Burrow rushed up to her.

"I'm fine," the girl replied, a bright grin on her face. "I. Feel. Fantasic!" she rising fists almost caught the two adults on the nose. They exchanged wordless thoughts.

"Well, I suppose if she enjoyed and isn't hurt…we can talk to Ms. Bailey about letting her take part more."

"Yay!" Ange cried, raising her arms again.

They turned to the children still at the top of the hill. "You four are still getting punished!"

"Awww…" groaned Martin.

"Worth it, though," Sarah said.

"Indeed it was," Roberta said.

"Yeah," Robert added.

* * *

><p><strong>12. Alone<strong>

Roberta sat her bedroom, her knees drawn to her chest, her hands wrapped around them and her head buried into the nest made by them.

He had been adopted. He had been adopted and was being taken from her. He was right about the fact that she had other friends, but she could never be as close to anyone as she was to him. She even doubted Sensei could be as close. He was going have a happy family while she was left alone. It was not his fault, she understood, but that of the family.

"How dare they take Robert away from me!" she shouted to the empty room. "He will have a nice, happy family while I remain here! Worst of all, family tend to talk about how good they are as a family, not sparing a single thought for orphans like myself!" The girl stamped her feet deep into the mattress, not seeing the clear jealously that was developing. "I know I should not hate, but blast it, I cannot help it!" she looked up and raised a fist to the ceiling. "From this day forth, if I hear someone talk about how good their family is, I shall tell them exactly how I feel! They will rue the fact that they even mentioned it!"

* * *

><p><strong>13. Birthday<strong>

"Happy birthday, dear Roberta! Happy birthday to you!" the Thompson family finished the song as Michael placed the cake adorned with thirteen candles on the table.

Roberta had forgotten all about her birthday. Before they returned to the home for another visit, she had brought a present three nights ago while the girl was asleep and posted it home, along with instructions for her parents and brother. She had wanted to do this since they began travelling, but never had the time.

Roberta had still been completely oblivious to the event even as they all sat down at the food-filled table, thinking they were just having a feast. Her endearingly dropped jaw showed her surprise.

"I had forgotten completely about my birthday," Roberta said. "Thank you so much, all of you! I am in your debt for this."

"No, no, dear," Rosette quickly replied, waving a hand. "It was our pleasure. Mikey loved making all the food and we haven't celebrated a birthday in years."

"Mum…" Michael hissed, his face heating up. "Don't call me that in front of people."

"You really enjoyed it, even though I am not a part of your family?" the girl raised an eyebrow.

"You don't need to be a part of our family for us to want to celebrate your birthday," Mary said. "As a matter of fact, Mum, Dad and Mikey—"

"Onee-san!"

"Ok, Mum, Dad and _Michael_ have said more than once that they feel like you are part of the family."

"Oh my…" Roberta said. "I feel so honoured."

"Come now," Timothy piped up. "Let's stop this chit-chat and eat! You haven't even blown out the candles, Roberta. You deserve your first real birthday celebration."

He was correct. The orphanage staff never celebrated, but not out of lack of care.

Roberta blew out her candles (making sure to make a wish) and the cake was cut and served. After the five had eaten until they could no longer, it was time for the presents to be opened. The first one was Mary's.

"Well, that is just lovely. Thank you Sensei," she said with a smile as she looked into the box. Contained within were a crisp new white dress shirt, a midnight blue tie, a dark grey waistcoat.

"I thought it was time you got a new outfit," the alchemy teacher explained. The blonde girl looked down at her current outfit: A white, collared shirt, a mint green, low-and-v-necked cardigan with threadbare patches on the sleeves, tan-coloured, corduroy trousers with snuffed hems, and dark brown Doc Martens. It had served as her travelling outfit for the last two years. Once again, a valid point had been made. "Also, I heard you saying one time that you wanted to dress smarter, so I wanted to get something smart, but also comfortable to travel in."

Roberta nodded in understanding. _I wish Robert were here…_

"My present next," Michael said excitedly.

"You brought a present?" his sister asked.

"Of course." He grinned widely.

"You are most kind, Michael," the young alchemist said as she pulled out the garb. "Now I have a fully complete outfit." She gave a small laugh. Michael had given her a long, hooded midnight blue coat.

"It matches your shoes," Michael rather liked that pair and wished he was not too old to wear such a type.

"Yes. Sensei, I shall start wearing this from tomorrow."

Finally, Roberta opened Rosette and Timothy's gift. It was a new book.

"This looks really interesting," Roberta said, after reading the blurb. "I shall enjoy reading it on those long train rides." She stood up from the couch and gave a polite bow. "Thank you to all of you, I could not be any happier than I am right this moment, but not because of the presents, but the effort you went to for me. I will find a way to repay you, Sensei, Michael, Mrs. and Mr. Thompson." She bowed to each in turn.

Mary sighed. _Will she ever just accept something without offering something in return? Equivalent Exchange doesn't have to apply to EVERYTHING._

* * *

><p><strong>14. Envy<strong>

Roberta was sitting in the lounge of the hotel as usual. She was right in the middle of a fight the protagonist had engaged in her attempt to rescue her brother, when a voice interrupted.

"Excuse me, Miss," it said.

Roberta lowed the book and found herself looking at a young boy, no older than eight, either six or seven-years-old.

"Hello there," Roberta greeted with a smile, trying to seem friendly. "How may I make your acquaintance, boy?"

"Um…" the boy said shyly, looking his feet and not understanding the meaning of the word 'acquaintance'. "I just saw you sitting all alone here and I was wondering why."

"I am not alone," the girl told him. "My Sensei is here, and she is booking us a room. I am waiting here for her."

"A sensei?" the confused child said. "Where's your mum and dad?"

There was a trice of silence between them for a few moments.

"I have no mother or father," the girl replied.

"But everyone has a mum and dad."

"Well I do not," the girl replied in a tone. "I had some, in my early stages of life, but they are long gone."

"Gone where? My mum and dad are over there." He pointed to a man and woman, the latter of which held a baby. They waved back at their son. "The baby's my little sister."

Roberta did not notice the flare of jealousy within her. "Oh yes, _you_ have a nice family. You do not think of those without one, do you, boy? In your young age, you cannot comprehend a person without a family. You are a fool! How dare you wave your happiness in my face!" Throwing her book down on the chair, Roberta flew to her feet as her voice rose. The other people in the room turned their attention to the scene. "How dare you tease an orphan in such a way!"

The boy was backing slowly away. "S-sorry…I don't know what an orphan is."

"Sorry is not good enough! An orphan is a child with no parents. I am not surprised your parents never taught you of them, being so _happy_."

The boy's mother and father were striding toward her, the woman passing the baby to her partner.

"Don't talk to my son in that way, you brat!" the mother roared as she came to a halt and protectively grabbed the shoulders of her child.

"Oh, I suppose you have come to gloat, have you?" the bespectacled blonde cried.

"What are talking about?" the father demanded to know. "Our boy's only six! How could he understand about children like you at this age?"

"I could!" the girl snapped back. "I may have known nothing of death, but I damn well understood that some children, such I, did not have parents as they were no longer around or could not look after their kin."

"Well of course you would. You experienced it. Now if you don't calm down and apologise for this behaviour, I'll—"

"Roberta!"

Said girl, the boy and his parents turned in the direction of the voice. Mary was striding toward them, a room key in one hand and her expression full of fire. As she came to a halt, she asked, "What on _earth_ is going on?"

"This child," Roberta pointed at the boy. "Was teasing me. He was showing off his _lovely_ family, completely arrogant of those without such. The little brat!"

"I wasn't!" the boy wailed, tears beginning to fall. "I didn't know some people had no parents! I wasn't being mean, I swear!"

"Roberta, he's a young child," Mary scolded. She had never seen Roberta acting this way. She was a calm, rational, level person. "You should apologise to him and his parents." She turned to the man and woman. "I'll apologise to you too, sir and ma'am. She's never acted like before. She's a nice girl, really. I'm so embarrassed and ashamed."

"If that's so, than she's not showing it," the woman replied. "If she acts mature and apologises, we'll leave it at that. I don't want to cause any more trouble…or wake my baby."

Mary turned back to her apprentice, the question silent.

There was another trice, where the girl stood stiffly upright, her fists clenched. That unknown envy was still pumping through her blood, but she managed to calm herself after taking several deep breaths with her eyes closed.

Eventually, she turned to the family; her head bowed, and said, "I am sorry for being so rude. I did not realise that this child knew not of parentless children. I hope you can forget my offensiveness and accept my humble apology."

"Thank you," the mother said. "I'll forget this event, as you apologised so nicely. You're lucky my husband and I are forgiving people. We'll be going now."

The family turned and left. The other people in the lounge returned to their own business. However, as the family walked away, Roberta heard the father mutter, "What a little bitch, honestly…"

Mary was fast to react. Slipping the string of the key around her wrist to free her hand, she grabbed the girl's left wrist, the hand of which was extending towards the Transmutation Circle, and pulled it behind her back. She then clamped her other hand over the girl's mouth.

"To the room. _Now_," Mary said sternly, steering the girl towards the stairs leading to the first floor, glad that she had given her suitcase to the bellboy.

Roberta sensed she was going to receive the biggest reprimand of her short life.

* * *

><p><strong>15. Love<strong>

Mary and Roberta were making their first visit to 'the holy land of automail'. As they had heard, the place was bustling with activity.

Roberta was wondering casually though the town, her hands in her shorts pockets. Due to the heat of the sun beating down on her and everyone else, she had left her coat with Mary at the bar. She was surprised the South could compete with the East for heat. Mary was still at the bar, writing her latest letter home. She liked to be left alone when doing so, as she felt it helped her remember.

As she walked slowly through the busy street, Roberta quietly observed the work going on around her. She wanted to asked questions, but she knew better than to be so rude as to interrupt.

At one point, Roberta stopped to watch the thrill of an automail arm wrestling match among a cheering, shouting crowd. She even found herself cheering along at one point; particularly a tall woman took up the challenge. She won the three of the five. Once the match was over and the crowd dispersed, the girl returned to walking.

Suddenly something - or rather, someone - caught her eye. It was a slender, dark-skinned girl with short black hair pulled into a low ponytail and dark blue eyes, dressed a black tank top, camouflage trousers and black shin-boots. She was carrying boxes from a pile into a building.

"She is so pretty…" Roberta thought to herself. She suddenly realised she was standing in the middle of the street, staring at the girl. She slipped down a nearby alleyway to watch the girl in secret.

"She is strong as well," Roberta said to herself. "To heave those boxes up with so little trouble…though, that may mean they contain something light…" Suddenly her eyes widened and she placed one hand on her stomach.

"What is this feeling?" she whispered to herself. What does my stomach feel like it is full of butterflies? Could it be…infatuation?"

This was the first time Roberta had ever felt truly attracted to someone. She had known for a while she liked girls. Mary had given her 'the facts of life' (she shivered at remembering that day) and explained the emotion of attraction, and had wondered since if she would ever form a relationship.

"Maybe I should talk to her, and see if she— No!" she found herself shaking her head. "Even if she was of my sexuality, as if she would romance me. Besides, I cannot have romantic feelings at this age. For goodness sake, I am only fourteen! I must wait at least another two years for these feelings. I am too young…" she continued for at least ten minutes more, hoping it would vanquish that that emotion. Eventually, must to her relief, it seemed to die away once she stopped looking at the girl.

"I shall return to the bar, before something else happens," Roberta told herself. "And I most certainly will not share this experience with Sensei. She does not even know of my attraction to girls, so this is something I must keep to myself."

She re-emerged from the alleyway and began to briskly walked back to the bar, feeling at little disgusted with herself.

"I feel like I am in two parts," Roberta said to herself when she found herself on a quiet street. "One part of me now believes I cannot believe I would such feelings at this age…yet…another part is saying 'go on and embrace those emotions!'" She stopped walked and looked down at the ground, her hands still in her pockets. "What side should I trust…?" She thought long and hard about the decision, but inevitably, she went for the easier option: "Be gone, romantic feelings! Be gone I say! Take yourselves to the depths of my heart and perhaps in two years' time, I will release them again."

* * *

><p><strong><span>Author's Notes:<span> I hope you enjoyed thedr, dear readers. I will be doing another for the Thompsons, though mainly Mary, as well. They are in chronological order, if you have not noticed. The Paninya bit is after she 'turned over a new leaf', hence why she was working and not stealing.**

**At first, I was aiming for a nice, even amount of ten drabbles, but, due to more ideas coming to me, that ten became fifteen, as you can see. I would have included a few more things, such as the meeting between Roberta and Robert, her meeting with the Thompons, and her first successful transmutation, but then I would have this even number. I also wanted all the drabbles to have one-word titles, but "Human Transmutation" ruins that. I think it can count, as it is referring to the same thing.**

**If you do not mind, could you tell me which one was your favourite and why? You do not _have_ to but I would love it you would.**


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